My Name Is No One
by cute-will-kill
Summary: What if John hadn't met Sherlock first? What if John had met a certain Irish mad genius first and ended up with and working for him? Oh but then- of course- Sherlock bursts onto the scene, turns John's life and ideas upside down, making him doubt Jim. What will John do and how will the genii react?
1. Keep Those Fleet Feet Sliding

_My Name Is No One_

: :

_Keep Your Fleet Feet Sliding_

: :

John was bored. Bored and tired. It was hard for him with his injuries; they tired him out and left him exhausted and cursing them.

But what was killing him wasn't what sent him home it was the fact that he was 'home'. It was the fact that this place- this London spring- was not home. His home was between the spray of sand and blood. Where bullets came past right next to you and every second could mean life or death.

That was home to him, that's where he belongs.

Not this mundane, grey world where nothing happened. There was nothing to live for.

No excitement.

And so John had decided to create some.

: :

He brought a map of London, stuck it to his wall and picked up a pencil. He put on a blindfold, spun around in circles a couple of times then reached forward to check he _was_ actually facing the map, he was.

God, this felt so much like 'pin the tail on the donkey' that he couldn't help _but _start giggling. It was just so ridiculous! A thirty-something cripple playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey with a London street map by himself. It was just too stupid.

Eventually his laughter subsided and he coughed a few times regaining his composure despite the blindfold. He then managed to lean forwards and draw a dot on the map. Quickly he tore off the blindfold off and searched the map for the dot. He growled in annoyance and began putting the blindfold back on grumpily. He needed a street so of course John manages to get the dot slap bang in the middle of Hyde Park.

He sighs, calming himself. Still plenty of time Watson, he reminds himself, you have all the time in the world now, until your worthless life ends in fact.

With the blindfold back on he spun again, repeating the process of feeling for the map before placing another mark at random.

He quickly untied the piece of cloth from around his head and looked at the map. He grinned when he saw the new spot he'd marked out.

Oh well this _did_ promise excitement.

: :

The random number generator spat out two numbers; eighty-six and three.

He couldn't be happier.

: :

He'd been walking round Belgravia for a week and a half now and all he could say about it overall was that it was _extremely _fancy and had high security.

He was lucky that the third floor flat of number eighty-six Eaton Square was still up on a fancy property website. It told him about the twenty-four-seven security and porter service. But it also told him that, conveniently, it also had a balcony.

: :

John's reconnaissance lasted another week and a half. He walked the street every day pacing back and forth every couple of hours. He looked up at the third floor hoping to catch a glimpse of the person living there.

He'd occasionally see a flash of pale skin or dark hair as someone moved quickly away from the window. The man- the hair was short and from what he could see the jaw was too square for it to be a woman- smoked. There was the occasional cigarette stub on the window sill where he'd stubbed out his fags.

He felt as if he had a purpose now, that he had some reason for being. Even if it was just to fulfil the need to see whether he still could do it.

His leg had stopped being weak and his hand had stopped shaking now enough so that he could scale a wall and get onto the roof at night. He'd pace up and down that too measuring, checking the time occasionally so that he would know how long it would take him to complete each piece of his route.

It took him the three weeks to get the journey perfect.

: :

The night he'd chosen was warm- for London springtime- and John's shoulder didn't complain too much as he strolled to Eaton Square. He'd dressed in dark grey tight jeans so they'd blend in and not get caught on anything and a tight black shirt with the sleeves rolled up for exactly the same reason.

His gun was tucked into the waist band of his jeans within easy reach; it reassured him.

He scaled the wall with ease; the warm weather helping to keep his shoulder from twinging.

When he got to the top he jogged over to where he knew number eighty-six was and looked down before carefully lowering himself onto number fours balcony. That seemed to have gone okay. Unfortunately this was the hard part.

He managed to get himself over the edge of four's balcony. Now in theory all he had to do was push himself away from the building and- there we go. He pushed himself away then used his weight to swing himself down onto the balcony below letting go of the one above in the process.

It hurt as he landed but he was still grinning. His psychiatrist was wrong; he wasn't haunted by the war, he missed it. This was only some stupid distraction but it still got the adrenaline going. Not like war but enough.

He made his way over to the balcony doors and took out his lock-picks, kneeling and slowly working on the lock. It took a little longer than he thought but eventually the door clicked quietly and he stood again slowly opening the door.

He slid into the room; it was dark and silent, full of shadows. John sighed quietly, the darkness eating it up, before grinning at the room in general. He'd done it, he'd actually done it!

He was still grinning when the barrel of a pistol nestled against the nape of his neck pressing into his skin.

"What do you think you are doing?" A soft voice tinged with an Irish accent inquired from behind him.

: :

**Hello! Brand new fic- oh yeah, that's right; another one- yay! Damn we have so much to write about. So please excuse lack of updates; we have lots of stories to balance and **_**C**_**'s internet is faulty. **

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	2. And if, if Your Tongue Slips

_My Name Is No One_

: :

_And if, if your tongue slips_

: :

John sat on the strangers couch with the gun pointing at his head staring calmly up at him. The man looked down at him with dark eyes his black hair falling over his forehead and into his eyes. The gun seemed almost out of place if you just looked at the soft cotton pyjama bottoms and his tight grey t-shirt with his rumpled dark hair, that is, if you didn't look to closely at his eyes and the smirk playing around his lips. Because then, then the gun was completely justified. There was a manic light in this man's eyes and it just put you in mind of Anthony Hopkins in The Silence of The Lambs. It creeped John out and made him excited all at the same time; he wanted to see how far this man would go- if he really was crazy- but it also terrified him as well.

"You broke into my flat Johnny..."

John recoiled as if the stranger had hit him. "You know my name...?"

The stranger hummed and nodded, "Of course I do Johnny; I've been watching."

"Watching? Watching _me_?" John could feel that his eyes were wide and he knew he looked dumbstruck but he was too surprised to care. "Why?!"

"Because you've been very naughty, Johnny! Planning to break into my flat and watching it every day, daddy's disappointed."

John went blank. "My dad's dead."

The dark haired man looked extremely surprised at that comment, it was comical. John started laughing at the wide eyed look and the mouth hanging open slightly with his hair still falling into his eyes, it was ridiculous.

The taller man blinked a few times and closed his mouth before beginning to smile, slowly at first but before long it was a full blown, real grin. It made him look beautiful and insane and fucking gorgeous all at the same time.

"Th-that was unexpected!" The stranger dropped the gun flopping down next to John, both still laughing. He wasn't sure why but the whole thing was just silly.

"Yeah." John started to get control of himself and his breathing. After a while he sat up and looked down at the other man. "Seriously, why have you been watching me?"

"You were watching me; it was only fair I watched you as well." The man grinned. "I wanted to know what you were planning."

"And?"

"You broke into my house and I pointed a gun at your head, isn't it obvious Johnny? Really if I wanted you dead Sebastian would've shot you a week ago however you were _interesting _and normally only the brothers are interesting. You caught and held my attention, Johnny, I needed to meet you."

John thought about this for a minute. "And now?"

"What do you think happens now Johnny?"

"I don't know. You could kill me, though I'd probably win in a fight."

"You might. But you'd be boring dead and you're a lot more fun alive, more useful too, for that matter." He grinned at John- like a shark at a fish.

"So I'm interesting?" John half smiled at this.

The man looked gleeful. "Of course you are Johnny! You're the most interesting thing- other than The Brothers- right now.

"The Brothers?" John asked puzzled.

"My enemies silly! They're everywhere but, right now, The Brothers are top of my list. My mortal enemies as it were." The stranger grinned at that- John didn't see why, didn't know why- his dark eyes glittered manically.

"Of course; how silly of me." John shook his head. "People aren't like this; people don't have mortal enemies."

"I'm not people, Johnny. I'm me and me has mortal enemies, me has a lot of enemies."

John turned to face the, clearly, mad man. "And why is that?"

"Because I'm a criminal, obviously. Come on Johnny; I know all about you, I have a gun and I have enemies, criminal; obviously?"

"Oh yes obviously, how did I miss that?" John snapped back, sarcastically.

"See!" The man cried, jumping up suddenly and pointing at John. "You see!"

"See?! See what? For God's sake!"

"See? See why you're interesting! _You _broke into _my _flat and _you _were held at gunpoint and yet you'll still be snappy with _me_- the aggressor- _you _still feel able to verbally attack _me _with sarcasm."

"I didn't attack anyon-"

"Oh don't be boring Johnny! You were doing so well as well...!"

"Doing well in what?"

"Think John."

John looked up at the other man with wide eyes. He sounded so serious, about _this_ of all things. And that was almost scarier than the manic man who'd held a gun to his forehead.

"You want me to think about this?" The man nodded. "About what I'm doing well in?" Another nod along with a serious face. "Right."

"Please."

So John sat and thought and after a moment it came to him. "Oh my God, this was all a test, wasn't it?!"

The taller man grinned and held out his hand as if to shake John's, so John took it dazedly shaking it. The man grinned, "Jim Moriarty, at your service."

"That was a test too." He didn't even have to ask, that was obvious now. "This was all a test; I started to watch your flat so you started to watch me, learn about me even and now you want me to pass your challenges, live up to your expectations?"

"Very good Johnny." The man was back to grinning, crazy person.

"And you'd only 'let me in', let me know your name if I passed your test…?"

"Of course! It was the only way I could guarantee my own safety. Guarantee that you wouldn't tell, Johnny." Jim smirked down at John then took the seat next to him again.

"How do you know it's guaranteed now?"

"Because I know you John, now you're hooked. Now you want to stay, you need the excitement I offer, and so now you will."

"I'll stay, will I?"

"Obviously, don't be boring Johnny. Being boring will mean there's no 'in' for you and I'd really like you in, I'd really like you to work for me. You'll be such an asset."

"Work for you? I'd be a criminal?" John frowned; he didn't want to be against the law, even if he had killed before. And broken into apartments before the army and now. Oh sod it, maybe he _was _a criminal already.

"Ah, more like a bodyguard, I know how moral you are after all- even if your need for excitement and adrenaline drives you to do certain things. Just a personal bodyguard; always there twenty-four-seven."

John was silent, staring at the man in front of him. Was this a way out of his boring life? An out? Breaking into apartments just for the thrill was nothing compared to this.

"You'd be paid well; it'll be exciting as well." Moriarty paused for a moment, pursing his lips. "By the way, fire you're psychiatrist she has it wrong; you aren't haunted by what you've seen, Johnny, you miss it."

: :

John sat there stating at Moriarty for about ten minutes. Finally Jim stood and smiled down at John. "Welcome to my home, John; it's your home now too. I will be your flatmate and your boss. Ignore Sebastian when he comes back in the morning, he'll be annoyed that I didn't talk to him about it, but who cares?" Moriarty winked at John then and he felt like he was missing some sort of inside joke. "You're bedroom is down the hall," He watched him indicate a doorway leading off into darkness across the room. "Last door on the right. There's food in the fridge, if you want anything... Now, goodnight John, sleep well." And with that over the man sauntered away through yet another door. Moriarty raised his hand in a half wave not looking back at him.

John sat still, barely believing what had happened. Was this real? This was happening? Just like that? He knew he'd broken into Moriarty's flat because he needed to break his boredom but he'd never thought this would happen- not in a million years.

He finally sighed and stood, deciding to go to- what was apparently- his room; he'd talk to his new 'flatmate' in the morning. But, for now, he needed sleep. Desperately. Like a drowning man needed air.

: :

**Wow this was done quickly! Well yeah here you go! **

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**My Name is No One **

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**These Names Will Never Die**

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	3. I Want To Reconcile

_My Name Is No One_

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_I Want To Reconclie The Violence In Your Heart..._

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Strolling into the kitchen, a month later, was heralded by a knock to the back of the dead that sent John reeling to the floor.

"Oi! What the-?!" He landed hard on his hands and knees with bruising force.

A foot was placed on the small of his back, pressing him onto the cold tiles harshly. "Shut it." A harsh voice growled at him, presumably the owner of the boot breaking his back currently.

"What are you doing in Mr Moriarty's flat?" He asked, scared for the genius's safety as well as his own, it may have only been a short time but the other man's quirks had grown on him and the jobs were fun- in his opinion- so far, even if it was just the beginning.

"That's my own business, intruder." The man spat out and John grunted in pain as he was shoved further down. He was the intruder? He was?

An angry hiss sounded behind them- John couldn't turn to see but- he assumed it was Jim, that thought was confirmed a moment later when the man spoke. "Get off John, Sebastian."

"He's an intruder Jim! Not one of us." He shouted back.

"But he is!" Jim practically screamed at Sebastian, making John flinch mentally- he was too crushed to do it physically.

"You're deluded! He's got you right where he wants you, if we let anyone in they'll kill us!" Sebastian pressed his foot further into John's back.

"You idiot!" Jim was screaming now. "Imbecile!"

John almost laughed when Jim began throwing things at Seb, it was ridiculous. "You." A can of something almost hit Sebastian's head. "Utter." A book hit him in the face and Sebastian shouted in pain and reeled back getting off John. "Idiot." A knife flew past, sticking in the wall by Sebastian's head; something told John that that was on purpose.

John scrambled up and went to stand by Jim. "Mr Moriarty! Stop..."

Jim was breathing hard and he grabbed onto John's shoulders staring into his eyes. "He hurt you."

"So?"

"It... matters." Jim growled, glaring at Sebastian past John's shoulder.

John sighed and patted Mr Moriarty on the arm. "I'm fine, sir. Just bruises; nothing that won't heal."

He moved out of the taller man's grip and to the side. "You need Sebastian Moran for now sir, remember? He's a good shot."

Sebastian was now looking between them, his facial expression a mixture of bewilderment and anger. "You told him my _name?! _He bellowed. "Our names?!"

Jim began to look angry again; John couldn't comprehend what about Sebastian's words annoyed him so much. "Of course I did you great big dimwitted oaf!"

"Why?!"

"Because he works for ME now!" Mr Moriarty grinned at Sebastian and pulled John close suddenly- which surprised him- flush against him. "He's with us now. With me."

"Mr Moriarty?" John whispered it against Jim's cheek.

"Mm...?" Jim turned so his lips brushed against John's.

John felt a shock go through him as Jim's kissed him; a warm, tingly shock that made his toes curl. A lovely shock.

"With me now..." Jim whispered against his lips and kissed him again softly, slowly.

John pulled away. He didn't want to, but he did, because he liked Jim but he wasn't sure about Jim. He'd been looking at Jim- little glances he didn't think he'd noticed- surreptitiously for a while now. Jim was bigger than him but slighter, slender and beautiful in his own way. Large dark eyes and dark hair to match went well with the man's slightly tanned skin and stature.  
And the way he carried himself, all that power and danger, it was magnetic; it drew John in. He couldn't help it.

"Mr Moriarty?"

"Jim, please, I insist." Jim smirked.

John paused for a moment. "...Jim? Why're you kissing me?"

"Because I've been wanting to for...oh since I met you..." Jim smiled. "Since I became aware of you. It's been very distracting John."

"Really?"

"Yep."

John smiled slowly, this he could live with; Jim brought excitement and danger and was beautiful in his own way. Of course John was normally with women but he'd been with men before, he was bi after all.

"In that case, kiss me now..."

Jim giggled and leant down to kiss him again.

: :

John came down for tea the next morning to whispered voices in the kitchen.

"You can't do this Jim!"

"Why not?!" Was Jim's hissed reply.

Sebastian sighed. "You spent weeks watching him and..." Sebastian seemed lost for words for a second, groping for the right words. "And _lusting_ after him!"

"So what?!"

"He's just another army doctor! A simple soldier!"

Jim growled. "You're a simple soldier!"

"No! I have worked for you for two years! I-"

"But John Watson is twice the man you'll ever be..." John stilled at that. "He's good. And I don't mean he pretends to be good; I mean he really is good deep down. You can see it in his eyes; stare into them and you'll be lost in that kindness, that goodness. You'll damn well drown in it Sebastian. So please, don't doubt John, because he's better than you'll ever be."

Sebastian paused, paused for a long time. So long that John began to back away. "Jim? If he's so good, then why's he working with us?"

John could hear Jim's smile at this. "Because there's this little spark of darkness that just flares up, flares up so bright that it burns everything around it and kills the good, just for a second but long enough." Jim giggled. "Long enough for him to belong in my world." He sounded serious now, as John began to back away silently; going back upstairs. "He might be on the side of the angels but don't think for one second, Sebastian, that he is one..."

: :

**So here it is! Finally Chapter three of My Name is No One, and it took us ages by our standards so we're sorry (though this is technically ****_C_****'s fault so don't go blaming M, okay?) **

**So here we go! Please review! They make us smile and we appreciate them.**

**This chapter title comes from Muse's song 'Undisclosed Desires' **

**From M and ****_C _**


	4. Were We Too Young?

_My Name Is No One_

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_Were We Too Young? Our Heads Too Strong?_

: :

John kissed Jim's chest softly crawling up his body so he could reach better. Jim moaned quietly arching up for a moment before falling back to the sofa weakly. "John..."

"Mm?"

Jim sighed pushing John back slightly. "John stop, I need to tell you something..."

John sat back on Jim's hips and stared at him. "Jim?"

Jim smiled sadly. "Sorry, I was enjoying that."

"Then..." John leant down to begin kissing along Jim's collarbone before Jim pushed him back again.

"John!" Jim giggled and leaned up to kiss him on the lips gently, before lying back down and lacing his fingers over his chest. "I have a job for you."

John raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yep." Jim popped the p for effect and grinned.

: :

"John!" John startled out of his revere and turned to Mike Stamford who he knew was on that bench, feigning a stony surprise and clutching his cane tightly. "John Watson! Stamford, Mike Stamford. We were at Barts together."

"Yes, sorry, yes, Mike, hello."

"Yeah, I know, I got fat." He smiled cheerily.

John went for polite, if a little awkward. "No, no."

"I heard you were abroad somewhere getting shot at. What happened?"

"I got shot." John's face fell slightly. Perhaps he was as good an actor as Jim said he was.

An awkward pause. "Are you still at Barts, then?" Mike rallied.

"Teaching now, yeah. Bright young things like we used to be." He grinned. "God, I hate them... What about you? Just staying in town till you get yourself sorted?"

John managed to look sorrowful. "I can't afford London on an Army pension." 'However living and working for an evil genius has it's perks.' John thought and had to fight down his grin to make sure The Ice Man wasn't suspicious.

"You couldn't bear to be anywhere else. That's not the John Watson I know!" Mike exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm not the John Watson..." John sighed.

"Couldn't Harry help?" Mike frowned.

"Yeah, like that's going to happen." Honest scepticism; Harry help anyone, let alone him? Never.

"I don't know, get a flatshare or something?"

"Come on, who'd want me for a flatmate?" Jim. "...What?"

Mike was grinning. "You're the second person to say that to me today."

"Who was the first?" John fought down another grin because he already knew who he was going to meet next in Jim's clever little plan; The Virgin.

: :

**Hi everyone! Finally finished the fourth chapter, yay!**

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	5. Never Gonna Give You Up

_My Name is No One_

: :

_Never Gonna Give You Up _

: :

John watched discreetly as a pale man with dark curly hair glanced up at them; The Virgin.

He walked into the lab slowly behind Mike, looking around in undisguised wonder. "Bit different from my day..."

"You've no idea!" Mike exclaimed, laughing.

The curly haired man, who had looked back down to his experiment, now spoke up. "Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine."

"And what's wrong with the landline?" Mike sounded a little defensive.

Offhandedly The Virgin said; "I prefer to text."

Mike sighed and patted himself down. "Sorry, it's in my coat."

John found his quickly, his old one that is, not the one Jim gave him. "Er, here..." The man looked up, surprised. "Use mine." John smiled slightly, only for a second.

"Oh..." He sounded surprised. "Thank you."

Mike paused for a second, letting everyone settle a bit before speaking again. "This is an old friend of mine, John Watson."

The Virgin was turned away, texting and didn't show any sign of registering what Stamford had said. "Afghanistan or Iraq?"

John, despite living with Jim, was taken aback. "Sorry?"

"Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?" The man sounded a bit like he was suffering.

John finally caught on. "Afghanistan." He knew how this worked but to play along he said the words anyway. "Sorry, how did you...?"

He interrupted John as a mousy lady walked in carrying coffee. "Ah, Molly, coffee, thank you." He began walking away. "What happened to the lipstick?"

'Molly' seemed flustered. "It wasn't working for me."

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now." John suppressed a smile at this; The Virgin was crass and that reminded him of Jim. Not that Jim was crass; anything but! But Jim had the power- enough power- to be able to tell people whatever he wanted.

"Okay..."

With another, fast change of conversation, the manic man had focused back on John. "How do you feel about the violin?"

The shift in conversation was a little shocking. "I'm sorry, what?"

Again, in that suffering tone of resignation. "I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other..."

John turned to Stamford, confused. "You told him about me?"

Mike grinned. "Not a word."

"Then who said anything about flatmates?" Jim did, but they didn't know that.

A sigh. "I did. Told Mike this morning I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is, just after lunch with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult leap."

John sighed, a mental nod; recognising Jim in this man. "How did you know about Afghanistan?"

"Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. We ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Sorry, got to dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." The man grinned with the sudden topic switch, again.

John was shocked. "Is that it?"

"Is that what?" Confusion came through his words.

"We've only just met and we're going to go and look at a flat?" He wasn't as surprised as he sounded, after all he moved in with Jim straight after meeting him.

"Problem?" Not really...

"We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting. I don't even know your name!" Jim had refused him that, unfortunately.

"I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. You've got a brother worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him, possibly because he's an alcoholic more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic quite correctly, I'm afraid. That's enought to be going on with, don't you think?" He walked to the door holding it open as he uttered the last few sentences." The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon." And with that, he was gone.

Sherlock Holmes... an interesting name, to go with an interesting person. Jim needed him to show that surprise at that name, John realised that now.

John looked to Stamford for a little support.

"Yeah, he's always like that..." Mike grinned.

: :

Jim was sat watching the footage of the press conference when John walked in.

"It's truly beautiful John! The way his mind works... it's like mine." Jim giggled quietly watching the harried looking detective inspector begin to speak.

He beckoned John over, "Watch..."

John sighed and leant over his shoulder watching as the Inspector, Lestrade, spoke in response to a journalist's question.

"There's no link that we've found yet but we're looking for it; there has to be one."

John's eyes widened as everyone in the room's phone went off. Jim's computer brought up white text that told you what everyone had received.

'WRONG'

John chuckled and nodded. "Very good!"

"We've got our best people investigating..." That was Lestrade again.

'WRONG'

John smiled again and kissed Jim's neck before chuckling at the Inspectors joke and then the sergeants caution; easily picked up with Jim's technology.

"...We are all as safe as we want to be..."

'WRONG'

Jim chuckled and turned to face John. "The Virgin's right; no one's safe..."

John shook his head, giving Jim a peck on the lips before leaning his cane against the wall and jumping onto and sitting on the desk to remove his shoes. "You're having fun with this one, I can tell." John smiled indulgently.

"I always have fun..." Jim pouted up at John before grinning. "What's he like?"

"...Amazing." John smiled slowly. "His opening question to me was, 'Afghanistan or Iraq?'"

Jim chuckled and nodded. "He's the other side of my coin..."

John rolled his eyes. "I thought that was me?"

"No." Jim smiled sensuously and stood languidly to kiss John, tilting his head up so that he could seal their lips together. "You're the other half of my heart."

"Sure." John chuckled and kissed Jim again. "Well you were right, he didn't see through my disguise."

Jim giggled and nodded. "Of course he didn't! I told you he wouldn't!" Jim smiled, his self-satisfied smirk. "The best character you can play is a version of yourself, Johnny, and this is a version of yourself you know oh-so-well..."

John sighed and nodded. "Very true, unfortunately." He hung his head.

"Hey, hey John. Look at me?" Jim wound his arms around John gently, tilting his face up so that he could press their foreheads together. "You are strong John! You're my darling Johnny, my love... You're better now, yes?" Jim kissed him gently and John nodded a little in agreement at Jim's statement. "Then that's all that matters. I'll keep you entertained, Johnny, I'll keep you sane."

John whispered a thank you against Jim's lips.

"Besides," Jim grinned. "We have a brand new pet!"

: :

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